


Chicken Soup For The Soul

by favolefata



Category: Keen Eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favolefata/pseuds/favolefata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie is ill, and Monty takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken Soup For The Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This was blatantly inspired by the fact that I myself was suffering from a cold when I first started writing this, and would've quite liked my own Monty Pippin to make me soup and take care of me! Many thanks to Kat for the beta.
> 
> Written for Lyrstzha

 

 

Eddie Arlette was sick. In fact, most of Scotland Yard appeared to have been floored by the same nasty cold virus making its way around the divisions. Everyone, that is, except Monty Pippin. "Boarding school, dude. Makes you immune to almost anything...even group masturbation," he'd explained, and Eddie had been so ill that he didn't even have the energy to comment on how this was yet another insight into why Monty was really a special case in itself and also probably why Nigel and his 'chums' always seemed slightly too 'chummy' for Eddie's tastes. Not that he was homophobic or anything, obviously, and had always been of the opinion that love between two people was an amazing thing no matter if one, or both, or neither of them had a penis to their name. And whatever they got up to with that penis, or penises, or lack of penis, was their own business. Shit. He was getting delirious. 

Fiona, of course, was refusing to come near him and had taken to spraying anything he touched with antibacterial spray, leaving Monty to push him back into his bedroom after he'd come round to pick Eddie up for work that morning and had been greeted at the door with a massive sneeze. He vaguely remembered Monty pulling his coat and shoes off for him (the only items he'd successfully managed in his cursory attempt to get dressed), tucking him up in bed, and leaving him with some water and a packet of painkillers. "You need to get better ASAP dude; you can't leave me on my own to face Johnson...plus doing paperwork will be so boring without our occasional rounds of robot boxing!" And then he'd left, gracefully pulling the bedroom door shut with barely a sound. 

Eddie still didn't get how Monty could be so effortlessly elegant; a cop with hair and manners like that wouldn't last five seconds in New York, but it seemed strangely fitting in England, and strangely fitting that Eddie had been partnered with him. He hadn't really questioned it when he first arrived in London, but it was odd how seamlessly their partnership worked despite them both coming from completely different places (and not just geographically either). Eddie was letting his mind wander now; the slightly feverish stream of consciousness just wouldn't shut up and had chosen Monty as its subject. Truth be told, he'd never really taken the time to step back and examine the character of Detective Inspector Montgomery Pippin properly. For someone so outwardly open and upfront about his personal life he still remained a bit of an enigma; his family clearly had money and he had gone to 'all the best schools', so what was he doing as a D.I. in the Metropolitan Police Service? Eddie would have to ask him about that sometime...

The next thing he was aware of was a large weight bending the mattress by his feet. "Pete! Get the hell out! I'm not in the mood to let you chew on my shoes right now!" he managed to croak, but was surprised when a smooth voice answered 

"Well, if you're going to be like that I may as well just leave you to it!".

"Shit! Monty...sorry...Pete's always getting in here and the results are never good!" He pulled himself up into a sitting position to be greeted by an amused smirk and raised eyebrow from the blond man sitting at the end of his bed, and was pleased to note the lack of nausea that this movement had induced. Abruptly, there was a glass of water taking up his peripheral vision and he took it gratefully, realising suddenly just how dry his throat was. "What time is it anyway?" he asked, once he'd finished gulping the water down and the glass had been removed just as quickly as it had appeared. 

"Ten thirty. In the morning. You've been asleep for about twenty four hours dude! Seems to have done the trick though...you're looking a lot less like you're about to vomit on my shoes. Think you can make it to the lounge?" Monty stood up and held out his hand to Eddie, who grabbed it without really thinking and suddenly found himself a lot more vertical. His head span slightly and he had to grab onto Monty's other arm for a moment before he felt stable enough to shuffle through to the neighbouring room, though he was aware that Monty was still keeping a light grip on him as he guided him to the sofa. "What you need, my friend, is chicken soup" Monty said, moving over to the kitchen and producing a carton from the fridge with a flourish. 

"Hang on a sec; there are a number of things that aren't quite adding up. One, why exactly are you here? Shouldn't you be at home 'entertaining' Audrey? Two, it's far too quiet. Where the hell is Fiona and why isn't she here poking me with a stick and generally revelling in my weakened physical state? And finally, three, how the hell did you get in in the first place if Fiona is, by some miracle, not actually here?" Eddie raised a hand questioningly and then sagged into the sofa again once this speech was complete and he was no longer obliged to appear vaguely perturbed at the situation.

"One, I persuaded Fiona that what you have is highly contagious and suggested that she spend the night at Nigel's just to be on the safe side. Two, I nicked your keys before I left yesterday morning. And three, Audrey's mother is down for a couple of days and I'm trying to make myself as scarce as possible. Anyway, partners are supposed to look out for each other." Monty finished emptying the carton into a saucepan, adjusted the temperature on the hob, and moved back over to sit in the chair next to the sofa Eddie was sprawled across.

"So does Audrey's mom, like, think you two are a serious couple and everything then?" Eddie mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning his head back onto the cushions.

"No, quite the opposite actually. She's all for open relationships and last time we met even suggested that I should, err, try out the older model...if you get my drift."

"Seriously? I would've thought you'd be all over that."

"No way dude. Shagging more than one person in a family is always a recipe for disaster...unless we're talking about twins...twins are good. Fantastic, even."

"It worries me that I'm no longer surprised when you come out with things like that," Eddie sighed. "Clearly I've been spending far too much time around you if this is now somehow normal". 

"No one could ever spend far too much time around me. Though...I have to say that you're the longest serving partner I've ever had. Most end up asking for a transfer." This last sentence was a lot quieter and forced Eddie to open his eyes and properly turn towards Monty, who was regarding him with an intensity normally reserved for difficult suspects in murder cases. 

"What?" Eddie wasn't quite sure about how he was supposed to continue this conversation, and wasn't helped by Monty simply quirking an eyebrow and smiling slightly. "Look, why would I want to put in for a transfer?" Eddie finally continued, "I was expecting to get chewed out big-time when I arrived here, you know, 'Who does he think he is? Just some dumb American cop!' but you just got on with your job - which I think you do great, incidentally - and it just sort of worked. Plus I don't think any of the other guys would be up for playing 'Who can flick the most rubber bands into the trash can?' instead of doing paperwork." 

Monty's expression hadn't changed, apart from a flicker of something in his eyes that Eddie couldn't quite place before he jumped up and went back over to the stove to check on the soup. Eddie was aware that something subtle had changed, like Monty had somehow been waiting for an ultimatum and was now finally able to relax, not that you could really tell as he was still buttoned up in his sharply cut suit and tie. "Why do you, y'know, always wear that sort of thing?" asked Eddie, waving his hand in Monty's direction as he returned with the soup and a couple of chunks of bread on a tray. Monty deposited the tray on the table in front of Eddie, handed him a spoon, and looked at him approvingly as he tucked in enthusiastically. 

"Because it's easy. When you walk into a room in a tailored Saville Row suit people automatically know that you're someone important...someone worth watching, yet you're also able to blend into the background if necessary. It's the perfect front," he said simply, sliding smoothly back into the chair. Eddie, who had been expecting some throwaway remark about how it showed off his slim figure to the best advantage, had paused in surprise with the spoon halfway towards his mouth and now let it drop back into the bowl as he leaned back to survey Monty more pointedly. "Plus, once you've worn something designed exactly to your own measurements there's no going back. These suits are actually some of the most comfortable things I've ever worn," Monty continued, as if unaware that he now had Eddie's undivided attention. "I remember the first suit I ever had made; my father took me down to his tailors when I was eighteen...only concession he ever made to me growing up really. I still have it in my wardrobe somewhere. The tailor was this young Italian guy...couldn't have been much older than me, probably an apprentice of some sort now I think about it, but I remember thinking he had such beautiful hands. Of course, I was mortified to have this guy manhandling me, to suddenly be measuring me in all sorts of intimate places, but it was all right because at one point he smiled at me, like he understood how strange and yet how monumentally important the situation was. I kissed him, when I came back for the final fitting, because it seemed like the only way I could really say thank you." All through this speech Monty had steadfastly been looking down at his hands, clasped in front of him on his lap, but he now flicked his eyes up towards Eddie, as if daring himself to see what the other man's reaction would be. 

Eddie placed the soup bowl back on the table, and couldn't help letting out a chuckle as he said "Y'know, I think that's the most you've ever said to me about your family, or your childhood, or anything, in all the months we've been working together! Not even on all those nights confined to your car on stakeouts! And as far as the being attracted to men too thing goes, you think I hadn't already noticed? I saw the way you talked to the guys at that swingers' party, and we all know you're never one to turn down sex of any kind!" 

Monty grinned back at him, shifting in his chair and letting out the tension in his shoulders, which Eddie hadn't previously noticed. "Well, it just seemed about time to get a few things out in the open," he shrugged in reply, "You got anything you want to reveal?" 

"If you mean am I attracted to men too, then no, not as far as I know...but I guess I would never rule it out. Who knows what could happen in six months' time?"

"Quite." There was something a lot more appraising in Monty's smile this time, but it was gone before Eddie could make a comment. "So, are we going to watch a movie or what?" Monty asked, reaching for the TV remote.

"Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to be at work?" Eddie had suddenly remembered what time it was. The curtains were still drawn from the night before, putting the room into a confusing sort of half-darkness. 

"Well, Johnson's finally succumbed to whatever it is that you've all got so I figured no one would notice if I took the day off," Monty smiled conspiratorially as he got to his feet, whilst Eddie budged up on the sofa, picking his soup up again in the process. 

Eddie smiled back, "Yeah, well, partners are meant to look out for each other, right?" 

 


End file.
